One Stained Glass Window
by xtwilightfantasy
Summary: We all know from Twilight that Edward left the Cullen family once, rebelling against the vegetarianism he had lived with since the beginning of his creation. But what really happened? What made him go back? Oneshot.


**Disclaimer:**All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**AN: **To avoid confusion, I will tell you now: this is an Edward POV.

* * *

**One Stained Glass Window**

I walked into the town impatiently; prowling, searching...hunting. I was thirsty. I needed blood, and soon.

There wasn't really anybody around - that was the benefit of nearly dead places - so I could hunt freely, without much fear of being seen.  
No one ventured out much at night, anyways; it was dangerous enough already, even without a vampire out and about.

I had learned the value of keeping a low profile from my time living with Carlisle, and I had learned it well. I had picked up other survival tips too, if you can call them that, but secrecy was the most important thing out of them all.

I was tired of living the way he did. In short, I was tired of hunting animals. Where was the challenge? Animals weren't even our natural food source.

Humans were.

* * *

I sorted through the thoughts of the few humans that were still awake at this hour, tossing out the innocents from my list of potential prey. I ignored the squalls of a crying infant, the snoring of an old man, the bleary, semi-unconscious thoughts of a mother... 

_Oh, no. You had better do what I say, missy, or I'll...!_

My head immediately spun toward the direction of the thinker of those thoughts. Gruesome, perverted images filtered through his mind. I took off

* * *

The thoughts and images led me to an old, long abandoned church. Many of the windows, and most of the doors, were boarded up with rotting wooden planks. The wood was old, filthy, and mud-stained. Deep scratches were embedded in the walls. A mouse scurried under into a tunnel. 

How fitting. An undead person, destined for hell, returning to kill in a church.

I already knew he was inside, but I was mildly curious. How did he get in? Could he get out just as easily? Had he planned it all out?

One of the windows was broken, its planks torn off. Its edges were jagged, sharp shards littering the gravel. I picked one up, sniffing. The scent was fresh, as expected.

I leapt through.

* * *

My eyes widened as I took in the sight before me. The scene was horrific, at least ten times more gruesome than the person's thoughts had led me to believe. 

A man, clothed in a dark shirt and black pants, was forcing himself on a girl that looked about fifteen or sixteen. Younger than me, even without counting my being on of the undead.

In his right hand, he wielded a cruel, sharp kitchen knife, the dim moonlight from the cracked windows glinting off the blade.

The girl's light brown hair was splayed out on the rough dirt underneath her. Her eyes were wide open with terror, her screams muffled by his hand. My eyesight caught the wound on her throat, a bruised, fatal cut, deep and dark, still oozing. One glass window in the far wall was smeared and stained with thick crimson.

Her blood.

Without thinking, I coiled and sprang.

I landed on top of her attacker, slashed and tore at him with my teeth. He died quickly, never knowing what had killed him.

Eagerly, I moved to drink the warm, thick liquid that was beginning to pool on the ground. Venom bubbled up in my mouth, frothing and cascading down onto my tongue, anticipating the blood I was about to savor.

"Wait! Don't...leave me." I stopped at the urgency in the girl's frail whisper, despite the flaring thirst. Her mind was whirling with thoughts, unclear and vague.

She looked up at me as I walked toward her, confusion and surprise written all over her face. Her eyes were wild, delirious.

_God...? Is this...heaven? Why does it hurt so much?_

I was speechless. She thought I was...God? Unthinkingly, I reached out a hand, took hers in mine. Her skin was burning. The warmth startled me. I peered at her face.

I almost cried out in horror. She was a mirror image of someone I had known, a relative, a year before she had died. She was younger, but the face, the hair...

All the bloodlust abruptly cut off, then returned, boiling. But it seemed more of a nuisance than a real urge.

Could I drink from the man? I doubted it. I didn't want him inside me. He was the one that had attacked the girl. The thought was revolting.

I could see that she was dying. There was no way I could get help in time, even running as fast as I could. The blood was draining away fast, leeching away, making her face white, and paler than my own. She slipped away gradually, silently, her eyes closing as she took one last shuddering breath.

* * *

I left quickly, cleaning up before I went. 

Why had I ever left Carlisle and Esme?

I hadn't known, hadn't realized. I could understand now, though.

I turned my face toward the rising sun and ran, just ran. They would be waiting for me. I would find them, complete our family again.

Away from this place. Away from the blood and gore, from that one stained glass window, from the girl's haunting voice and face.

Toward home.


End file.
